In summer & autumn 2025 we asked people to send us ‘postcards from the future’ during the Dorset National Landscape Management Plan consultation period, to share their thoughts on the landscape now and in the future. Poet Louisa Adjoa Parker was commissioned to write a new poem inspired by these postcards.

Louisa explains how she rose to the challenge “I read & responded to the words (& lovely drawings!) on the postcards, which described things people love and things they’re worried about now, and for the future. I decided to write a prose poem in postcard-style stanzas, written from the people in the present day to people in the future and the other way around. I used forward slashes to indicate line breaks as way to show the fragmented nature of what is being said by multiple voices but by a single narrator.”

“Some very clear themes emerged so I divided the piece accordingly: (i) is about peoples’ love for, connection with, and memories of the landscape; (ii) is about challenges people are currently facing and concerns they have; (iii) is from an imagined bleak future; and (iv) is from an imagined bright future. This poem uses some of the actual words and expressions written on the postcards (including ‘bones of land’) as well as my creative interpretation of (and expansion on) some of the key themes.”

Bones of our land (postcards to & from the future)

by Louisa Adjoa Parker

from Dorset, 2025
i
dear ones / here we walk through seaside towns / past harbours with still, salted boats / over green-topped sandstone cliffs / hewn from solid gold / we run & ride bikes on the beach / swim in our wide, open seas / our children get to play on sand / some go to forest schools / we search for frogspawn in our ponds / find mushrooms, apples growing wild / watch birds / see clover, lindens, maples, pines / here is a place to think & breathe

there’s heath & sky & smiles & bees / white waterfalls that lead to sea / & hidden magic coves / horses with grey hooves & multicoloured tails / lamp-black rivers overhung with trees / a land of barrows / chalk-figures carved into the hills / castles & story rising from the earth / here is a land of poetry / where the past spills into now / bones of our land / jutting through its skin

we remember days of wildness here / bone-white sand dunes / like a maze with tufted grass / we’d wind our way down through / pulled towards the sea / get lost then find our way again / days of children catching ferries / or buses on their own / camping underneath the stars / long days sent from heaven / days when everything was free / we hope it’s here for generations to come / we hope it can stay wild / help us not forget / dear ones / what this land is meant to be / we love the bones of this place / wish you were here / with love

ii
dear ones / our seas are filling up with plastic / we’re dumping toxic waste / into our fresh water / sewage rises when it rains / our land & coast erodes each day / like ancient bones that turn to dust / seas are forever rising / glass-bright summer days are heating / it’s a disappearing, littered landscape / there are too many people / too many dogs / tourists visit all year round / walk up neat gravelled paths / eat fish & chips & drink from cans or plastic cups / pick up their neon towels & leave / forget to take their waste / we wonder if they’ve forgotten / what nature means to us / our ancient land is not an item / to be ticked off from a list

too many people blowing in / & settling like autumn leaves / buying up our homes / gift-wrapping histories / turning everything we have here / into photos for the ’gram / stamped all over by the corporate machine / no space to move / to drive or park / no space to think or breathe / buses few & far between / there’s hidden poverty / we need to be reminded / that we need this land / far more than it needs us / when people love a place’s bones, we’ll care / it remains beautiful as ever, dear ones / but we need to stay alert / perhaps you’d better stay there / sending love

from Dorset, in the future
iii
dear ones / our seas rose up & flooded us / ravaged cliffs which stood majestic as they fell / our seas are roiling beasts now / a million kettles on the boil / plastic snakes through tainted water like seaweed / tendrils wrap around the gills of dying fish / clutched at our ankles / when we used to try to swim / plastic bottles bob like apples / unpaired trainers run nowhere / this stuff’s forever floating & existing / never sinking to the sea bed / our water’s black with sewage & pollution from the labs / unmentionables float past / like fleets of tiny boats / when it rains the stench will rise & fall along the shore / you can smell it from the town / there’s nothing left / yet visitors still come & sit amongst the debris / try to catch last rays / of the dying sun

our land is littered here / with neon-coloured plastic / like bright flowers sprouting from the earth / everything is overgrown / a tangled bird’s nest, never green / / we can’t breathe salt air / or see the sky / we rarely hear the sound of birds / apart from cries of hungry gulls / yet cars still clog our roads like silt / wildfires break out every day / heaths & forests burn / the air’s thick with a yellow, smoky smog / there are insects we don’t recognise / giant-winged & whirring / we wonder if they might be drones

the bees & butterflies are gone / the greenbelt is a cotton thread / we only eat what labs grow / & we fight each other for / it’s nearly always dark here / & although it’s hot & wet / we never know the season / we have forgotten snow / packs of dogs run wild / the rich live in glass domes inland / we live in abandoned farms / with rusted tractors / & the ghosts of lowing cows / or sleep in tents or broken cars / bones of our land are breaking / under all this weight / dear ones / we’re glad you’re not here / there are no stars / please help us / sending love

iv
dear ones / here we move through seaside towns / where water’s clean & teems with life / our children splash in freshwater / or swim with turtles / in a teal-blue crystal sea / sunsets dip & kiss the beach / a pale moon rises in the sky / watched over by gold cliffs / wildflowers carpet the earth / the air’s filled with the sound of birds & the hum of honey bees / plants thrive in rich soil / we’ve resurrected ghost ponds / watched nature bloom / buses glide across the land / like shoals of gleaming silver fish / we cycle on mycelium paths / connected like the wood-wide web / there’s space for a few cars / which shine like beetles’ wings / here everything is free / we welcome tourists with the sun / together we have learned / to tread the land more lightly

we planted meadows, hedges, trees / we breathe scents of damp earth after rain / & air salted by the sea / here the world’s less dangerous / peace settled on the globe / we roam over a land / with some parts wild / others buzzing with activity / where, like the ones before us did / we grow abundant, healing food / there are mixed crops in the fields / orchards full of ripening fruit / it’s bright & happy here / where the human world’s entangled / with the more-than-human one / there are foxes, friendly bears! / the air’s filled with blue butterflies / wild horses graze amongst the trees / & the corporate machine / is a long-forgotten, rusted ghost

we spread out tablecloths for picnics / or eat great plates of food / from cafes run by families / the land is litter-free / there are spaces to create & learn / to gather round a fire / while amber flames lick at the sky / tell stories as we’ve always done / of us & land, the ones before / we’re humanising history / there’s art & sculpture / libraries outdoors / we are the land & all its gifts / we are community & one / we camp under navy skies / patterned with bright stars / here’s a place where anyone & anything can be / in harmony / dear ones! / we found the old, wild selves / we yearned for / here, in this land of poetry / where we’ve gifted nature rights / we protect her fiercely / bones of our land are fusing together / wish you were here / with all our love

The poem has been included in the new Dorset National Landscape Management Plan 2026-31 as a poignant snapshot of people’s hopes and fears for the landscape and it will also help to prioritise future work.

Thank you to Louisa for distilling the eclectic mix of postcards into such a beautiful and motivating poem. We would also like to thank landscape poet Sarah Acton for her support at Postcards from the Future events, Caitlin Miller for editorial support and to all the people who shared their memories, thoughts, fears and hopes about the Dorset National Landscape.